Saturday, August 21, 2010

A bunch of fresh flowers. Simple poached eggs. A small square of dark chocolate. Delicate kisses.

Pleasure is not synonymous with overindulgence. Pleasure is having just enough of something. Not too little. Not too much.

So I wake up early on Saturdays and tie my hair in a knot. I take my market bag and wander among locally grown peaches. Sunbathing tomatoes. Fat blueberries. I fondle ripe squash and smell bunches of wildflowers. Then I stuff my sack full of wild chanterelles, fresh goat cheese, and homemade bread.

Later, at home, I'll spend the afternoon concocting various dishes and delighting in the simple pleasure of a crust of bread smeared with goat cheese. Its tanginess lingering on my lips like kisses do. And I'll smile and admire the mess of dishes in the sink.

Joie de vivre on a solitary Saturday as my fingers prune in soapy water.

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

This started how everything starts-with a man. A man who gave me a gift. Gave me a name for what I so easily express, embody, and live out everyday now (thanks to my diet of yoga, good food, running, therapy, and anti-depressants). Until this summer I didn't have the word for it-the overwhelming abundance, the wide openness, the obnoxious loudness with which I live my life. I've always felt a little neurotic because of how easily I'm overcome with passion.

But now I know-I am Joy. It's just me. My nature is to be moved to tears. To jump up and down. To appreciate the smallest moments and gestures. To piss people off with my happiness.

And this blog was born as a way for me to share all those moments. A way for me to get away from that past girl I spilled about on my previous blog so I can fully crack open my heart and spread joy around the Internet. Because joy-joy is the only thing worth fighting for.

Joy drinks pure water. She has sat with the dying and attended many births. She denies nothing. She is in love with life, all of it, the sun and the rain and the rainbow. She rides horses at Half Moon Bay under the October moon. She climbs mountains. She sings in the hills. She jumps from the hot spring to the cold stream without hesitation.

Although Joy is spontaneous, she is immensely patient. She does not need to rush. She knows that there are obstacles on every path and that every moment is the perfect moment. She is not concerned with success or failure or how to make things permanent.

At times Joy is elusive-she seems to disappear even as we approach her. I see her standing on a ridge covered with oak trees, and suddenly the distance between us feels enormous. I am overwhelmed and wonder if the effort to reach her is worth it. Yet, she waits for us. Her desire to walk with us is as great as our longing to accompany her.